Mea Culpa
by Troll In The Dungeon 101
Summary: Some disturbing news, guilt and repentance. This is common ground for Severus Snape.    This will be M rated.
1. Chapter 1: Snape Delivers News

**Mea Culpa**

Rowling created the child's Harry Potter, but there were oh so many more stories to tell.

Chapter 1: Snape Delivers News

The midday sun beat high overhead, birds called piercingly to one another and the wretched Scottish midges were attacking him from all angles as he stalked up the gravel path. Gods he hated the outdoors. Not that he paid any mind to it today; he had only one destination in mind. The dratted man wouldn't be found anywhere else.

His feet pounded the cool corridors as he continued onwards. Much more at home now in the shadows, he still could not appreciate the echoing silence that represented a lack of students, his thoughts too tumultuous for that. He approached the gargoyle, barking the password and barely pausing for it to lurch aside. He took the stairs two, three at a time; it was simply unbearable to stand still and think upon the news he was charged with delivering.

He had half expected to find Dumbledore at his desk, waiting for him to arrive, already in possession of the facts of the matter. Merlin knew how he came about his information, but it was a rare occasion when someone could tell the Headmaster something he didn't previously have an inkling about. But no, he flung open the door without taking pause to knock, only to find an empty office.

The portraits were suddenly up in arms, bemoaning his appalling lack of manners at disrupting their peace so. Disregarding their empty threats he began to pace, questioning them on the whereabouts of his chief tormentor.

Predictably it was Phineas Nigellus who had the courtesy to answer him, however infuriating his response was.

"Dumbledore is aware he has a visitor. No doubt he will attend to you shortly."

He wasn't sure if Albus had learnt his blasted wearisome ways from the portrait, or whether some of the Headmaster's enigmatic behaviour had now rubbed off on his previous counterpart. Snarling, he wrought tight circles between the desk and empty fireplace, mind whirring. It was not _what_ he had to tell Dumbledore – although troubling didn't begin to cover the situation they now found themselves in – rather _how_.

Finally after a good eight minutes of prowling the oak floorboards, one of the occupiers of his thoughts appeared in the doorway to his private quarters. Dumbledore surely knew theatre of the mind tricks as well as the Dark Lord, for he stood there humming some godforsaken tune and looking for all the world as eccentric as The Prophet had made him out to be.

He recovered himself quickly from staring at the wizard covered from head to toe in sky blue, and opened his mouth to break the disturbing news. His momentary pause, however, gave Albus licence for one of his ridiculous pleasantries.

"Ah Severus, what a delightful surprise. I hope I haven't kept you waiting long. I was just –"

Snape waved his hand dismissively, interrupting any further superfluous commentary the Headmaster would try to engage him in. Time was of the essence.

"He's got Minerva."


	2. Chapter 2: Minerva Goes Shopping

**Mea Culpa**

Chapter 2: Minerva Goes Shopping

"Why don't you put that down darling? It's almost one you know."

"Hmm?" Minerva looked up to see her lover beside her in their bed, snuggled under the sheets already. "Oh I'm sorry, is the light bothering you? I shall go downstairs."

She made to get up but found a hand wrap tightly around her wrist. "Or not. Amelia?"

Her bed mate didn't respond vocally, but gently pulled Minerva's spectacles off and banished them, her quill and all the papers that littered the mattress to the nearby table. Strangely though she left the candle burning, which until that point Minerva had still believed was the cause of concern.

"What is this about?"

She frowned as Amelia pulled her down into an embrace and kissed her hard. Perplexed by this action at first she didn't immediately capitulate, but then who was she to push away a wanton woman? When breathing eventually became easier for the two of them again she restated her question.

"You are fixating on this Minerva. And as much as I like to see you with the bit between your teeth, passion flaring, there is little to be done about Fudge. Merlin knows I've tried during the years."

A foot crept up a calf, slowly caressing the silky skin. They both sighed appreciatively at the touch, and it was several minutes later before Minerva remembered their conversation.

"I admit I'm still upset by his actions at Hogwarts, not to mention the fate of the poor, innocent young Diggory lad who seems to have been forgotten amidst all this. Fudge is being deliberately obtuse; this hypochondria over Albus is clouding his judgement. The genuinely worrying aspect though is I think he truly believes it 'Mils."

"It's a lie that is preferable to the truth – of course he wants to believe it. If you told him his farts smelled of roses he would likely give you a job as Chief Fart Collector." She was rather gruff, unbelieving her Minerva to be so naïve. For that she earned a glare usually reserved solely for misbehaving First Years, which she countered by relocating her thigh to a rapidly heating core. A trick the eleven year olds didn't have in their arsenal to appease their Professor.

"Well he is certainly unpredictable at any rate, and if he persists with his stance regarding the Dark Lord then that makes him dangerous. I freely admit that I'm fearful for you Amelia. If any of this information can be of help to you in your position at the Ministry, well then I shall have succeeded."

"I know my dear, and I thank you, but this isn't about that now. You have been working nonstop since arriving at the cottage and if I know you, I'm sure you haven't had a decent night's sleep since the Third Task. So please let it go Min, just for tonight. Fudge, Voldemort and even The Order will wait for another day."

She went to refute the notion but felt the warm fingers that had been slowly undoing the pearl buttons of her night robe now inch underneath, toying tenderly with her breast. Her argument temporarily forgotten, Minerva's last conscious thought was to languidly wave a hand and extinguish the candle.

* * *

><p>The next morning dawned bright and early for the pair of them. As usual Amelia somehow managed to secure the larger half of the grapefruit, and as usual Minerva didn't mention it, only silently offering her the sugar bowl. Plans for the day were shared over breakfast; Amelia had meetings aplenty at the Ministry, while Minerva had several visits of her own to make under Dumbledore's orders regarding the re-formation of The Order. An owl tapped urgently at the window, interrupting their discussions.<p>

Squinting through her monocle, Amelia frowned as she read the note and slammed it down on the kitchen table.

"Blow it. I don't have time to get there today; it will just have to wait for the weekend."

"Is this your order at the bookshop?" Minerva quickly read the paperwork for herself. "If I leave now I will have time to pop over to Diagon Alley before I meet with Hestia. I'll go."

"I don't care what people say about you, you're wonderful did you know that?" Amelia pecked her on the lips before swinging her satchel over her shoulder and flooing directly to the Ministry.

Minerva stared after her for a moment before gathering her own things together. "What _do_ people say about me?"

* * *

><p>Minerva arrived just as the shops were beginning to open. Despite the warmth of the July morning a shiver wracked through her bones. Rarely if ever had she been subjected to fits of paranoia but today she had the distinct impression she was being watched from the shadows as she stepped into Flourish and Blotts.<p>

Striding back into the street barely ten minutes later, she paused to readjust the parcel of books under her arm. Once more on her guard, still she saw no suspicious activity. In fact there was precious little activity at all thanks to the early hour. Reassured, she swiftly turned into a side passage with apparition on her mind.

When she felt the prickle of magic it was too late to do anything but duck in the tight alleyway. The first spell flew over her head by mere inches but the second caught her squarely in the back. She found herself frozen in place with no chance to protect herself, completely at her attacker's mercy. A third spell, this time from directly ahead of her, robbed her of speech and engulfed her eyes in a blindfold.

She was dragged to her feet by a hand on either side roughly grabbing her elbows. A second later she felt a pull on her body as they apparated away to who knew where; the only trace left of her was the now unsupported parcel dropping with a thud onto the empty cobbled street.

* * *

><p>Arriving at the unknown destination, her attackers – whom she imagined must be re-banded Death Eaters – became obviously triumphant at how successful their tactics had been. Oddly enough Minerva wasn't feeling panicked by her situation, well not overwhelmingly so at least. From that first moment in Diagon Alley she had schooled herself to try and remain calm, and she still had her wand after all. She could also discern the magic binding her and set about willing it to loosen, concentrating above the clamour of the rowdy men as they dragged her up a short flight of stairs. They entered what she imagined must be the antechamber of a large hall or warehouse, if the echoing steps and voices were anything to go by.<p>

Assessing her circumstances she immediately determined nothing could be done until she had either sight or movement – or preferably both. Focussing on herself once more she could feel a layer of the paralysis spell strip away and a momentary flash of triumph raced through her, but to her dismay she failed to control the reflex twitching in her right arm that accompanied it.

The Death Eater on that side of her must have felt it too as he yelled out to his fellow adversaries. She heard their laughter before she noticed the levitation charm that raised her unwilling limbs out of their grasp and above their heads. The humiliation at such a loss of control engulfed her fully; she lost complete awareness of time and location until she found herself being dropped unforgivingly from a great height onto a very hard, very solid floor.

All but the silencing spell were lifted and she blinked rapidly, trying to see beyond the blinding light of the wand shoved in her face, only for her remaining senses to be shot to pieces by the slicing pain of a Cruciatus curse. They took it in turns to cast the spell in a frenzied attack that lasted for what felt like hours as the captors had their fun with her. Ultimately they grew tired, disappointed by her lack of screams until one of them had the bright spark to remove the silencing charm.

She didn't give them what they wanted, despite their crude goading. They upped the ante, desperate for her to yield but severely underestimating the stubbornness of a Gryffindor determined not to give in.

Minerva fought to keep the bile from rising in her throat, a battle she lost when her latest assailant took a more physical approach and kicked her forcefully in the stomach. Barely rolling over in time, she vomited and began to choke as he continued to attack her. With tears streaming down her face she lost track of the number of blows she received. Her fingers scrabbled at the cold stone beneath her, trying to find purchase to heave herself up and away from the boot that was still striking her mercilessly.

"W-ho…?" she croaked as she turned a blurry gaze upon them, trying to identify her attackers now that sight and voice had been returned to her, only in time to see a foot connect with her jaw and knock her flying into the wall.

From then on all was darkness.


End file.
